Those Nights Belong to Us
by BeccaBear93
Summary: In between all of the ghost hunting and cult dismantling, they're still just teenagers.
1. Listen to the Radio Play All Night

A/N: I've been wanting to write some Salarry since I finally caught up on the chapters that have been released so far, but then I listened to "Those Nights" by Skillet and got major feels about both them and me and one of my best friends since kindergarten. So then I couldn't decide whether to continue with the plan of writing something shippy or just adorable BFFs glued together forever. At this point I'm still leaning towards shippy, but either way, they are incredibly touchy-feely friends.

This will be a collection of ficlets, but I'll warn everyone now that I don't have any set update schedule in mind. It will just get updated whenever an idea for a new scene pops into my head.

When Larry turns on the boombox to show Sal the new Sanity's Fall album and his friend doesn't immediately start headbanging, he knows something's wrong. He shuts it off again, ears ringing in the sudden silence. "What's up, Sally Face?"

"Nothing, Larry Face," Sal teases back automatically. He nods towards the stereo. "Turn it back on, I wanna hear the rest of that song."

Larry hesitates with his hand hovering over the power button, but pulls it back after a few seconds. "Not until I'm sure you're okay, dude."

Sal sighs and walks over to Larry's bed, falling onto it face-first and sprawling out like a starfish. "It's nothing, really, just… Dad's been having a rough time again lately," he answers, but his tone says there's more to the story.

"And… what? Is he taking it out on you?" Larry asks, the first hints of anger creeping into his tone.

"No, no! Nothing like that!" Sal rushes to reassure him. He turns his head to watch the other boy out of the corner of his eye. "Well… maybe. But he's not, like, hurting me or anything. And he's not taking it out on me _on purpose_. He's just… stressed, and it makes him irritable. We've been getting into a lot of pointless arguments."

"Oh," Larry answers. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed and rests a comforting hand on Sal's calf. "I'm sorry, dude. I know stupid fights with your parents suck. Anything I can do?"

Sal closes his eyes for a minute, enjoying the soothing circles Larry's rubbing into his leg. He doesn't even seem to realize he's doing it. When he opens them again, he says quietly, "Can we just… listen to the radio? I don't really wanna think about it all right now."

Larry watches him worriedly for a long moment, but eventually nods. "'Course," he says, standing to turn it back on. He sits on the floor when he returns, leaning back against the bed. It's weird for the atmosphere to be so subdued while they're listening to Sanity's Fall. A few songs in, he turns to ask Sal's opinion, but the boy has somehow fallen fast asleep to the roaring metal, one pigtail falling over his mask. Larry chuckles and carefully pulls the hair bands out, knowing that his friend will be irritated if he wakes up with his hair crimped. Sal continues to sleep soundly, not even twitching as he runs his fingers through his hair a few times to straighten it and pushes it out of his face. He almost never seems to have nightmares when he stays with the Johnsons, and Larry wishes he could hide Sal away in his room forever just for that.

"Sweet dreams, Sally Face," he says quietly, slouching down to rest his head on the bed and get a bit more comfortable.


	2. Nightmares (I Can Read You Like a Book)

A/N: Surprise! It looks like the first few updates will be coming pretty quickly after all, because these two are gnawing at my brain and I've got a few more ideas for them. Also, for those for whom the ships matter: I've decided that there will be eventual Sal/Larry after all, but there will be a bit of Sal/Ash before that.

Enjoy!

Warning for possible spoilers up through chapter 4 of the game.

When the static buzzes on his walkie talkie at 2am, Larry is instantly awake and pulling on his clothes. "You alright, Sal?" he asks after a minute of silence.

"L-Larry?" the other boy asks, trying to hide the way his voice shakes.

"Yeah, I'm here, man," he says, keeping his voice calm for Sal's sake despite his racing heart.

"Can I come down?"

"Of course. I'll unlock the door, so just let yourself in, okay? I don't wanna wake my mom up."

"Okay," Sal agrees, and the walkie talkie goes silent.

Larry drags the beanbag chairs out of the corner, then heads to the kitchen. He grabs a bar of chocolate out of the drawer and sets about making drinks—tea for Sal and coffee for himself, because there's no way he's going back to sleep tonight if his best friend's had another night terror. The door clicks quietly as Sal enters the apartment and closes it behind himself, and Larry waves him into the kitchen. "Here, bud," he says, handing over the mug and rubbing Sal's back comfortingly. "Help me take the beanbags up?"

Sal nods and takes the tea gratefully, cradling the warm cup in both hands and holding it close. He's shaking like a leaf and left in such a rush that he's wearing only boxers and an undershirt, hair loose and sticking out every which way around the straps of his prosthetic. He follows Larry into his room silently and scoops up one of the bean bag chairs before heading up the stairs and out into the cold night air.

Larry follows, shrugging on his jacket and yanking the blanket off his bed, juggling it in the hand with the chocolate and coffee. Then he grabs the other bean bag and heads out to the treehouse. Sal is already at the top of the ladder, laying on his stomach and waiting with his arms stretched as far down as possible. Larry stretches up on tip-toes, handing up first the beanbag and then shuffling the other items around in his hands so he can pass them up, too. Sal disappears from sight, and Larry climbs up the ladder to find him sunk into one of the chairs, staring blankly at the wall.

"Here, brought you some candy," Larry says with an attempt at a smile. Sal takes it but sets it aside, and Larry grabs the blanket and tosses it over his friend, tucking it in tight around him. He pulls the other chair close and sits down, waiting. After a few minutes, Sal shifts to loosen the blanket's hold on him and throws half of it over the other boy. Larry takes this as a hint that Sal's starting to come out of his own head and asks, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Sal finally looks at him, considering the question. Eventually, he nods. "Yeah," he says, voice hoarse.

_Good_, Larry thinks. Even just _hearing _about Sal's nightmares can be terrifying, but if he's willing to talk about them, that means it wasn't one of the worst nights. He nods encouragingly, and Sal swallows nervously, a minute passing before he can get the words out.

"It—It wasn't mom this time," he says, and Larry's brows furrow in confusion. "It was… my dad… and you… and Lisa." He sounds on the verge of tears, so Larry wraps an arm around his shoulders and nudges the chocolate towards him again. Sal unwraps it and snaps off a tiny piece, popping it into his mouth and letting it melt.

"What happened to us?" Larry asks after a while.

"I… I killed you," Sal answers, turning his gaze back to the wall. "At least, I _think _I did. I don't know. But you were all dead, and there was… there was _so much_ blood, everywhere. Addison Apartments was painted red." He glances to a spot on the treehouse floor and shudders violently, quickly looking away. Larry can't help but wonder if maybe it was a mistake to bring him out here tonight. "I only saw the three of you, but I think there might have been more. I think I might have killed… _everyone_."

He hiccups, and Larry turns to hug him tightly. The edge of Sal's mask digs into his neck painfully, but he ignores it. "Hey, Sal, come on…" Sal sniffles, arms coming up around Larry and clinging to the back of his shirt. "It was just a nightmare, Sally. I'm fine. We're _all _fine. See? I'm right here," he says, pulling back for just a moment to look his friend in the eye. "And we can go check on our parents if you want, so you can see that they're okay, too."

Sal shakes his head and says quietly, "I know you're all okay. But what if one day, you aren't? What if it really does happen? I already killed my mom. Who's to say I won't kill you all someday, too?"

"Hey," Larry says, voice turning stern. He pushes Sal out to arm's length again and continues, "Hey, look at me, Sally Face. You did _not _kill your mom." He doesn't know much about Diane or how she died, but he's heard enough to know that Sal blames himself for it and thinks his father does too. But he knows enough about Sal to believe that there's no way in hell that it's really his fault. "And you aren't gonna kill us, either. I promise."

Sal laughs humorlessly. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Larry Face."

"Yeah, well, I'm keeping this one whether you like it or not."

The blue-haired boy sighs and settles back into the beanbag, gaze turning to the floor. "Please do," he whispers, barely audible. "I don't trust myself, but I trust you, so… Maybe if you promise, then it'll be true." He knows he's deluding himself, but he wants to believe it _so badly_.

"I promise."

"Okay," Sal says with a nod. After a minute of silence he says quietly, "Thanks, Larry."

"No problem, dude. That's what I'm here for." Larry tilts his head curiously and asks, "Think you'll be able to fall back asleep tonight?"

Sal shrugs doubtfully, but slips down to lay as comfortably as he can on the chair. "I don't know, but I'll try," he says, knowing Larry will pester him about his health if he doesn't at least make an attempt. Larry's the worst kind of hypocrite in some ways.

Larry nods. "I'll be right here, Sally." He crawls over to the cabinet and grabs a book before returning to his spot. He opens it and starts reading in the dim light that manages to make it through the window from the streetlight. Best to distract himself, since Sal will never fall asleep if he's being stared at.

After a long time, Sal's breaths even out. Larry glances up to make sure he's really asleep, then turns his attention back to his book. He gulps down some more of his coffee and settles in for the night, just in case his friend wakes up again or needs to be woken up from another nightmare. A restless night is a small price to pay if it means Sal gets a restful one every once in a while.


	3. You Didn't Look Away

A/N: I'm so sorry, I completely forgot to cross-post this chapter over here until I finished the next one!

Originally, this was going to be a happy, plotless, canon-divergent fic. But then canon latched onto my brain and there are a few ideas that won't let go. Eventually, I settled for the mostly-canon-with-some-tweaks route haha. So although it's still quite a ways off, I'll warn now that there's a decent amount of angst on the horizon. There will also be some actual plot on the horizon. The main focus is still on the fluff and friendships and our boys (and girl) just being teens and going on silly adventures, though. ^^

(Also, you may notice that I've started adding chapter titles. They're silly, and most of them will be stupidly long, but it's really just for my own amusement lol. Some will be quotes from the game or lyrics from "Those Nights", the song that inspired this whole fic, while others… not so much.)

* * *

The first time Larry sees Sal's face, it's a complete accident, which is… kind of disappointing. It's not like he thinks Sal doesn't trust him… but it would still be nice if he would open up about this one thing that so often seems to rule over his thoughts and dreams and _life_. And the fact that he ends up seeing Sal's true face without his permission makes guilt curdle in the pit of his stomach.

But regardless of how either of them feels about it, it happens how it does, and there's no way to take it back.

It's just like any other day, with the two of them hanging out in the basement after school and headbanging to Sanity's Fall. Then there's a sudden white blur, and pain blossoming from his nose, and Larry falls to the floor more from the shock of it than from the force of whatever the fuck just hit him in the face.

Sal practically squeaks, rushing over to kneel in front of him and pry his hands away from his nose. "Oh shit, are you okay?" he asks worriedly, biting his lip.

And that's when it hits Larry. Sal is _biting his lip_ and he can _see_ it. The thing that flew at his face is his friend's prosthetic.

"Your nose is bleeding," Sal says. When Larry doesn't respond, he seems to take it as a sign that the injury is worse than it appears, and he scurries across the room to grab the box of tissues.

The truth is that he _can't_ respond, because he's too busy staring like an idiot and his brain has apparently completely shut down. When Sal comes back and shoves a tissue into his hand, he just blankly holds it in his lap. Sal's brows furrow and he takes another out of the box and starts gently dabbing at the blood around his nose, wordlessly directing him to tilt his head back. Still, Larry just keeps staring. He's fully aware of how ridiculous he's being, but he can't seem to stop.

He knows that Sal went through multiple surgeries, and although they seem to have done the best they could with grafting his skin, there are still numerous scars from the stitches. The worst of the scarring is around his right eye; the doctors must not have been able to do much about that portion, because there are are still clear marks from the wound. Weirdly, they almost look like bite marks. To Larry's surprise, though, the glass eye is completely unnoticeable even with the context of the surrounding skin. If Sal hadn't told him about it, he wouldn't have had any idea that it wasn't real.

Despite the many insecurities he knows Sal has about his scars, he's still completely fucking gorgeous. Honestly, it only serves as a testament to how _strong_ he is to go through everything he has and still come out as the positive, friendly person he did. Larry can't imagine being put through the same situations and emerging as anything other than than cold and depressed.

The left side of Sal's face is much less damaged than the right, and when Larry's eyes wander that way, he catches the blush rising on his friend's cheek. His eyes snap away instantly, realizing he's been caught staring, and he turns his gaze anywhere else. It doesn't last long though, because his body still isn't getting the messages from his brain, and his eyes keep jumping back to Sal. Eventually, he stops trying to fight it.

For his part, Sal steadfastly ignores it in favor of continuing to pinch Larry's nose and wipe the blood away. "Are you okay?" he asks again after a few minutes, barely audible.

"I'm fine," Larry answers, finally finding his voice. He grabs another tissue and wads it up, nudging Sal's hand away to hold it under his own nose. "I—wha? Why're you crying?!" he asks, panic immediately swelling up.

Sal just shakes his head and swipes futilely at the tears with his sleeve. After a few seconds, a laugh bubbles out of his throat and he buries his face in his hands. His shoulders shake, and Larry can't quite tell if the shaky noises he's making are from more laughing or crying.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sal answers, shaking his head again.

Larry pulls him into a tight hug and asks worriedly, "Then why are you crying?" Sal mutters something into his shirt, but he can't make it out. He asks Sal to repeat himself, but the other boy just laughs again and says nothing.

It will be another four and a half years before Sal finally tells him what his answer was.

* * *

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Although I've known what scene I wanted this one to be about since day 1, because that conversation in the game was both adorable and heart-breaking, I couldn't quite decide what to do with it. Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth, and I'd started seven later chapters (and finished one) before I even managed to get a _start_ on this one. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, though, or what I could work on if you didn't! Comments are my number one source of motivation!


	4. Stay Up Late and We'd Talk All Night

A/N: I said you could expect the next few chapters to come quickly, and then I disappeared for a month. I'm so sorry, guys! But I promise I have been working on this fic-I've got nearly 9k words written for it so far, and a whole lot more to come. It's just scattered all over the place and I've been having trouble turning it into full, coherent chapters (even very short ones like this). I'm making this my Camp NaNo project, though, so I'm hoping that will help motivate me to work on filling in all the gaps.

* * *

It's Saturday night (or, more accurately, Sunday morning), and Larry is huddled shoulder-to-shoulder with Sal while they watch his favorite show, the one about the vampire hunter. If there's one thing Larry's learned from seeing that fuckwad Travis every day and hearing all the bullshit he spews, it's that the lack of personal space in their friendship apparently isn't "normal" for guys. If Travis was feeling particularly kind, he'd probably call it gay.

Larry's not sure that's quite right, but it's close enough. If that was _all_ Travis had to say about them, maybe he wouldn't want to punch him in the face so often.

Sal is staring at the screen with his chin resting on his tucked-up knees, but he's obviously not paying any attention to the show. Ever since that first incident, he's started wearing his mask less and less often when they're alone, and Larry's particularly happy to be able to see the dopey grin on his face tonight.

"What's on your mind, Sally Face?"

Sal jolts, glancing at Larry before turning back to the TV. Mouth now hidden behind his knees, he says dazedly, "Ash is just… amazing, isn't she?"

"…Yeah, she really is," Larry agrees after a moment. He likes Ash well enough, and she's helped him a lot in becoming a better artist, but he's never given much thought to her beyond that. Anyone who can make Sal smile like that must be pretty damn incredible, though. A strange feeling wells up; there's jealousy there, Larry knows that, an ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of anyone taking Sal away from him. But at the same time, he's genuinely happy that Sal's finally making some more friends, and he's obviously smitten with Ash. Larry simultaneously wants to pull them far apart and push them together lips-first, and it really doesn't make any sense. Then again, he's come to realize that most of his feelings revolving around Sal don't make much sense. It's easier to stick to the simple ones than to risking fucking up their friendship.

"Todd said she's in the same grade as us."

"Yep."

"Do you think… Never mind," Sal cuts himself off, suddenly pretending to be deeply engrossed in what's happening on-screen.

"Do I think what?" Larry gives him a teasing grin even while dreading the answer to his question.

"Nothing," he insists, shaking his head.

"Alright," Larry agrees, turning back to the TV. They fall into silence for a few minutes, watching B kill what must be her thousandth vampire, but eventually he can't hold the words in anymore. He huffs and shuffles around to face his friend. "I'm sure she'll love you once she gets to know you, Sally Face."

Sal chuckles but doesn't look at him when he says, "You _have_ to say that, you're my best friend."

"I don't _have_ to say anything, it's true. And if she doesn't, then she's an idiot and it's her loss."

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' hanging behind this little speech?"

Larry sighs and drawls out "…_But_… You just met her. Like, two days ago, for a couple of minutes. Maybe you should try just talking to her first? Hang out with her a little before you try asking her out?"

Sal laughs and finally turns to meet his gaze, resting his cheek on his knees. "Obviously."

Larry blinks stupidly for a minute and repeats slowly, "'…Obviously?'"

"Well, yeah. It was just a dumb thought; I wasn't gonna act on it. That's why I said 'never mind.'"

"…Oh. Okay," Larry says, and it feels like a weight's been lifted from his chest.

He feels petty for being so relieved.

He doesn't say a word about it.

He still doesn't say a word when "Sal and Larry" suddenly becomes "Sal and Larry and Ash and Todd" and the stupid war between jealousy and joy becomes an everyday occurrence. Eventually, he just gets used to it and lets it fade into the back of his mind, only to be dug up on particularly dark days when he's left alone with his thoughts.


	5. Bringing to Life Your Dreams of Mine

They've known each other for about half a year when Larry finally finds out why Sal stares at the paintings on his wall so often. He would have swapped them out for newer ones long ago if it weren't for Sal's fixation on them. He's never been sure whether it's a good fixation or a bad one, though. Sal just seems to go somewhere deep inside his own mind when he looks at them.

Sal's watching over Larry's shoulder as he paints a desolate landscape of broken roads and abandoned buildings, when the other boy suddenly lets out a tiny gasp. Larry looks to him in question, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times, swallowing before whispering, "You… You're painting one of my dreams." He glances from Larry to the paintings on the wall and back again before admitting, "Those ones, too… I was terrified when I first met you and saw them… It's like you reached inside my brain, pulled out every nightmare I've ever had about my mom's death and her funeral, and stuck them all on paper."

Larry stares at him for a long moment, confused, but knows that he isn't lying. Eventually he asks, "Do you remember when you told me about that dream with Sanderson and her creepy pony?" Sal nods. "Well, that might have been a pretty messed up version of it, but that was something that actually happened to _me_, right? I was the one who saw her get murdered. So I might be painting your dreams, but _you're _dreaming about _my _life."

The other boy shrugs uncomfortably. "Well, that was probably just because you told me about it. I mean, it makes sense that a story that freaky would get under my skin."

"Yeah, but… I guess that wasn't the only time."

"What?"

Larry nods up at the painting of people surrounding a grave. "That wasn't your mom's funeral, Sally Face… It was my dad's."

"I—well, I guess it could just be any funeral, right? Maybe I was just projecting, then."

"How well do you remember all those people from your nightmare?"

"…Very," Sal admits in a small voice.

"And do they match the people in that picture?" He nods. "What about the dog?"

Sal tenses. "There's no way I could forget it. That one was definitely mine."

Larry pauses, a million questions rushing to the tip of his tongue, but now isn't the time. "It—it was just a dog, tied to one of the trees. He belonged to my uncle."

"I… I don't know what any of this means."

"Neither do I," he admits. "I just wanted to point out that it didn't just go one way."

Sal laughs. "So, what… Now we have some kind of psychic connection?" he jokes in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from the surprisingly terrifying direction it's headed in.

"Maybe," Larry answers with a shrug. Nudging his friend with his elbow, he smirks and adds, "I guess we're just that close, huh? We're meant for each other."

"_Obviously _that's the lesson here," Sal agrees sarcastically, but the relief is clear in his loosened stance and the quiet release of a held breath.

Larry turns back to his painting, and Sal wanders back to the beanbag chairs, collapsing onto one with a sigh. After a few minutes, Larry asks quietly, "Will you tell me about it, someday?" He doesn't look away from his work.

"…Maybe someday," Sal answers just as quietly.

"You know you can trust me with anything, right? I don't know exactly what it is that you're so scared of, but you're safe with me."

"I know," he agrees earnestly. "And I want to, it's just…"

"I know. It's okay. I just meant… whenever you're ready. It's okay if that ends up being never."

"…Thank you."


	6. Surprise, I'm Gay!

Larry considers Todd to be a pretty good friend by now, so it's kind of surprising how awkward it feels when they hang out alone for once. Sal and Ash are stuck at school, retaking a history test that they both failed, so the other two head to a nearby coffee shop to wait for them. They grab their drinks and take a seat at one of the tables outside, sipping silently and watching the crowds that pass by.

"Sal and I went to visit Megan yesterday," Larry eventually says, desperate to break the tension. He hadn't realized before now that it's never really been just the two of them.

Todd brightens. "Oh? How was she?"

"She's doing good," he answers, then grimaces. "Er… as good as a dead kid _can _be, I guess."

He doesn't call Larry out on the faux pas, thankfully. "It's been a while since I've talked to her. I'll have to go up there soon."

"Well, you know you can always come with us. Sal goes to see her as often as possible, so… no shor—"

"Hey! I didn't expect to see you here today," says a voice from behind him. Larry pauses mid-sentence, and he turns to see the person who's just emerged from the cafe. He can't help but notice the way that Todd's eyes light up when they land on the newcomer.

"I wasn't planning to come," Todd answers, standing up to greet him. Larry follows his lead. "But our friends had to stay after school, so I thought it'd be nice to wait here." A bit nervously, he asks, "Shouldn't you be inside, though? I don't want to get you in trouble."

The other boy looks to be a few years older than them, and he's got dreadlocks pulled back and an apron slung over his arm. Larry can only assume he works here, and that he's _very _into Todd, judging by the blinding grin he aims at him. Larry knows that look all too well. "Nah, I'm on break. I wish you'd said something, though! I would've come out sooner, but Blaire only found me a minute ago and told me you were here. Break's almost over now!"

"Sorry, I didn't want to bug you at work."

"You know you could never bug me," he says, placing a hand on Todd's shoulder and squeezing gently. His smile softens. Larry swallows and turns back towards the road, feeling like he's intruding on a very personal moment. He stares at all of the people walking and driving by without really seeing them. All he can think of is whether this guy's feelings are returned or whether he's stuck in the same hell Larry is, never being able to say a word about how obviously in love he is.

"Well, I gotta go. Call me tonight?" Todd nods, and the other boy glances toward Larry finally. "It was nice to meet you, uh…"

"Larry."

"Right, Larry. I've heard a lot about you," he replies, and Larry's brows furrow. _What exactly have you heard?_ he wants to ask, but before he can even decide whether that's a good idea, the other boy is running back through the doors. "See you later, you two!"

"Yeah, see you," he answers the empty space in front of him.

Silence falls for a few moments, until Todd takes a deep breath and says, "That was Neil. He's…" He trails off, glancing around nervously like Travis might pop out from behind a corner at any moment. Then he smiles shyly and finishes, "He's my boyfriend."

Well, that answers that question.

"Oh," Larry replies intelligently. It comes out a bit strangled, and he hopes the other boy doesn't take it or his shell-shocked expression as anger or disgust. "That's cool. So you… like guys, then?" he asks, aiming for nonchalant and missing by a mile.

He nods. "Surprise, I'm gay!" he says with a self-deprecating smile, hands spread in a wide shrug.

Larry nods in acknowledgment and slowly backs up to sit down in his chair again. Todd's brows furrow in concern and he sits across from him. After a long minute he asks with dawning comprehension, "Do… Do _you_, Larry?"

Larry looks up at him, staring blankly until the question registers. "I, uh… I dunno," he answers with a nervous grin. He tries to meet Todd's gaze, but his eyes dart away and back again and again. Eventually he admits in a near-whisper, "I guess I like _one _guy, anyways."

Todd watches him silently for a minute, waiting in case Larry has more that he needs to say. He doesn't. "…Oh," Todd breathes after a bit, the word falling out of his mouth almost without his permission.

Larry glances up again and knows instantly that his friend's figured it out. He swallows, then nods, a manic laugh bubbling out of his throat.

"Does… that guy know?"

He barks out another laugh. "No, and he _never will_," Larry says pointedly.

"Part of me wants to ask 'why not?' or say you should just tell him, but… I get it," Todd says with a pitying smile. "It's hard. And it feels like it could be the end of the world if you mess it up."

"…Yeah."

"Well… Just know that I'm in your corner, whatever you decide to do."

Larry stares at him silently for another minute. Then he sighs loudly and a small, grateful smile crawls onto his face. "And I'm in yours," he promises.


End file.
